


Insurance

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Collars, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gladiolus suggests an extra step.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 20
Kudos: 89





	Insurance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The second they’re through the door, Gladiolus is on him like Noctis on a nap. Ignis is thrown against the door so hard that it wracks a pained cry out of him, but there’s little chance that Gladiolus heard it, because his mouth is already covering Ignis’ up. His tongue dives so far inside that he may as well be sampling the back of Ignis’ throat. Ignis’ aching groan melts into a needy, desperate gasp, and he swirls his tongue over Gladiolus’, giving as good as he gets. His thin fingers climb to tangle in Gladiolus’ dark hair while Gladiolus’ thick fingers dig nasty grooves into his sides. He’s going to be bruised tomorrow, but that’s what he wants, has _always_ wanted—he can tell that his alpha’s going into rut, and Ignis has been dying to _taste that._

Usually when it happens, when the first symptoms start to show, Gladiolus ends their dates early. He shoots off a text message to whatever glaive will cover Noctis for the next few days, and then he waves goodbye and goes, walking right out of Ignis’ life, leaving Ignis in a trembling puddle of _want_ , teetering on heat, because nothing gets his hormones going like Gladiolus’ pheromones cloying into him. This time, Gladiolus’ feral hands claw down his long body and twist into his ass, spreading out and squeezing—Ignis moans louder into Gladiolus’ mouth and loves how Gladiolus growls back at him. Gladiolus even bucks forward, slamming Ignis against the door again, but the pain is so very worth it. 

Then Gladiolus is hiking him up like he weighs nothing, and Ignis’ legs fly around Gladiolus’ waist. He clings to Gladiolus’ broad shoulders, still trading one kiss for another. Gladiolus turns them around and starts walking, taking Ignis with him, but Ignis is too busy sucking on his boyfriend’s tongue to notice where they’re going. He’s not surprised when they end up in the bedroom. Then he’s thrown down onto the bed, tossed almost carelessly aside, and Ignis scrambles to sit up on the unmade mattress and reach back for his alpha. 

Gladiolus climbs right down on top of him, just like he wants. He makes his way back against the headboard, falling down into the pillow— _Gladiolus’ pillow_ —he can smell the familiar peach shampoo and _loves it_. He’s slept over at Gladiolus’ place a hundred times, but never _like this_ , often after sex, but not the _brutal fucking_ that an alpha’s rut promises. Gladiolus’ pheromones are raging and practically choking him, hot and stuffy and _so good_ —Ignis can feel his whole body thrumming with anticipation. 

His legs spread as wide as they can go, knees hitting the bed on either side. He needs to be _taken_. His channel’s clenching down, flexing open, starting to bubble with the natural lubrication all omegas have. There are times when he forgets their positions and society’s expectations and tops the hell out of Gladiolus, but not now, not while his base instincts are screaming for _alpha cock_. He’d do just about anything to feel Gladiolus inside him. His glasses feel like they’re fogging up, and when Gladiolus knocks into them on his next kiss, he pauses to rip them off Ignis’ face and toss them at the nightstand. They were designer frames, but Ignis doesn’t care if they crack. He never minds when Gladiolus rips off his expensive, well-tailored clothes. The payoff’s always worth it. Gladiolus descends on his neck and bites a wet circle into his throat, growling across it, “Fuck, Specs, you smells so _good._ ”

Ignis weakly nods and concurs. Not for himself, though he’s wearing his best cologne, but Gladiolus—he reeks of sweat and dirt, raw and raunchy, something primal that goes straight to Ignis’ groin. He sees one tattooed arm reaching out beside him, fumbling around the nightstand’s top drawer, and Ignis mutters, “No need. I’m ready...” He’s practically soaking. He needs to get his pants off. His briefs off. His shirt off, his jacket—everything’s too constrictive and he’s boiling up. But mostly, he needs the thin tank-top off Gladio’s chiseled chest so he can feel those washboard abs grinding into his stomach. 

Gladiolus smirks, pecks his lips, and hisses, “I know how to make you wet, babe... it’s not that.” 

Ignis cocks his head, wondering what else it could be. They’ve been together long enough, have enough trust, to justify forgoing condoms. Gladiolus distracts him with another kiss, and then Ignis hears something rustling and clicking and feels Gladiolus’ hands between them. He breaks their train of kisses to watch Gladiolus clasp a large, dark collar around his throat, tight around the middle. 

It fixes in place, sporting no pendant or chain but a small black box on the side. He finds Ignis’ right hand and pushes up his sleeve, sliding his watch back, to tie on a matching bracelet with two silver buttons on either side. When it’s done, Ignis lifts his wrist, eyeing his new jewelry. It looks more utilitarian than fashionable, but he doesn’t know its use. He twists to inspect it, asking curiously, “What’s this?”

Gladiolus licks across Ignis parted lips and entwines their fingers, turning Ignis’ wrist to highlight either button. “You press them both at the same,” he explains, “to give me an electric shock.”

Ignis instantly freezes. His other hand slips between them, spreading across Gladiolus’ flat breast to shove him back. Gladiolus obediently groes but grunts, “What? It won’t kill me or anything. Just... do enough damage to stop me for a minute, so you can get away if I go too far...”

Ignis doesn’t even have words. He stares at Gladiolus, waiting for a better explanation, but Gladiolus only tries for another kiss—Ignis holds him back. “You have to be joking.” He can’t even believe they _make_ such a thing.

Gladiolus turns his arm to kiss his palm instead of his lips. “I know, it’s strange, but... I was talking to Nyx the other day, and apparently a lot of the alpha glaives have them, just as a safety measure.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

Gladiolus experimentally pushes at the hand against his chest again, but Ignis holds firm, keeping the tiny distance between them, at least on their upper bodies—he still has Gladiolus bearing over him, his legs wide around Gladiolus’ lap, the enormous bulge in Gladiolus’ pants rubbing against his own. It’s fogging his brain, and he can see how much Gladiolus’ dark eyes have dilated. But Gladiolus clearly hasn’t fallen into _full_ rut yet, because he respects the boundary Ignis sets. 

He does sigh. “ _Iggy._ You know I’m going into rut, and when it really hits me, my mind’ll just cloud over. I could do anything. Even—”

“You won’t hurt me,” Ignis cuts in, full of confidence that doesn’t reflect in Gladiolus’ face.

Gladiolus is frowning and says, “I’d like to believe that. But I don’t _know_ that. And you don’t either.”

“You love me. You would never—”

“Love’s got nothing to do with it, and you know that. It’s biological insanity. It’s pure _lust_. I could rip you apart in a fit of that, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

A wince flitters across Ignis’ face, because he’s heard that before—was cautioned so many times against dating a man of Gladiolus’ size. There’s no real height difference, but Gladiolus is at least twice as thick and all _muscle_. But Ignis argued then and still does now, “I might be an omega, and rather trim, but I can still handle myself in battle. And you _know_ that.”

Gladiolus does. Ignis has bested him in the ring a dozen times. But when Gladiolus surges forward, Ignis does nothing—the heat between them turns his normally sharp instincts sickeningly sluggish. Gladiolus pins him down with ease, holding both shoulders against the mattress as though about to push him right through it and down into the apartment below. Maybe Gladiolus really could do that. He’s the most powerful alpha Ignis has ever known, save only for the king. Having that kind of power looming over him is intoxicating. He moans despite himself, arching up. 

Gladiolus murmurs, “I won’t risk hurting the man I love. You don’t have to use it, but you have to wear it, or else you’ll leave right now, still wet and empty, and I’ll go back to fucking my own hand and wishing I had a more obedient omega.”

Ignis doesn’t like it. He’d hate leaving even more. He tries to reason, “What if I accidentally—”

“That’s why there’s two buttons in opposite places, but even if it happens, I’ll live. It won’t break me, Ignis. It’s just a precaution. _Please_.”

Ignis squirms. It always kills him when any of his boys say _please_ to him. Gladiolus is usually so stubborn. And Ignis is supposed to be the practical one, the man with precautions all lined up. He can appreciate the forethought for safety. But the thought of _him_ hurting Gladiolus is more distressing than his own pain. 

He’s quiet for a long moment, and Gladiolus is too, the ultimatum hanging thick in the air. Gladiolus suffers in the interim—Ignis can see his massive body practically shaking in an effort to hold back. His skin’s steadily flushing pinker, sweat starting to bead up, and they haven’t even started. They’re both still fully clothed. Ignis even still has his shoes on. He wants to stay and take them off. 

He doesn’t have any choice. He sees Gladiolus’ mammoth biceps tense above him, feels Gladiolus’ meaty thighs spreading his apart. He can feel Gladiolus’ giant dick weighing down his own. He’s _so_ hard, but Gladiolus is harder. 

Begrudgingly, Ignis reaches up to stroke the collar. Then he curls his fingers under it and tugs Gladiolus down for another kiss, surrendering to all conditions.


End file.
